Pen down a diary entry imagining you are the narrator of the story. How did you feel after learning of the circumstances of the death of the signalman especially after you witnessed the spectre at the mouth of the tunnel? Do you feel any regret? Could you have possibly done anything to prevent this?
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Answer:
'Halloa! Below there!'
When he heard a voice thus calling to him, he was standing at the door of his box, with a flag in his hand, furled round its short pole. One would have thought, considering the nature of the ground, that he could not have doubted from what quarter the voice came; but, instead of looking up to where I stood on the top of the steep cutting nearly over his head, he turned himself about and looked down the Line. There was something remarkable in his manner of doing so, though I could not have said, for my life, what. But, I know it was remarkable enough to attract my notice, even though his figure was foreshortened and shadowed, down in the deep trench, and mine was high above him, so steeped in the glow of an angry sunset that I had shaded my eyes with my hand before I saw him at all.
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